


Kidnapped

by Bwonsamdi



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Humor, Kidnapping, M/M, OOC, POV First Person, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 15:38:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19379671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bwonsamdi/pseuds/Bwonsamdi
Summary: My forehead smashes into something metal and it brings me around. I’m seeing stars and my body gets pulled back. Shit, that hurts!





	Kidnapped

**Author's Note:**

> Hewoo again. Haven't posted for a long time. A new Rammstein tour has begun so I've decided to write down some new ideas.   
> P.S. English is not my native so if you find any mistakes I'm trully sorry!
> 
>  
> 
> P.S.S. I hate that stache!!!

Another great concert. Summer. Heat. Hungry audience, screaming and shouting, making up for all the years of waiting. Speakers are roaring so that the ground vibrates from the power of heavy music. Six men, craving for a new gig no less than a huge crowd, gathered this night. Remarkable experience.

Especially when clouds of fire flying in front of your face, melting the air around. You feel like a chicken in an oven, burning from every side. However, I feel quite safe from my perspective, much thanks to my instrument. The others, on the other hand, have to move around. In particular, the guitarists. I hope none of that heavy metal parts from above will fall, lighting me up like match. A match. How ironic.

The performance is over. The audience is in euphoria, clapping, spare no hands and shouting, not afraid of losing the voice. It’s worth it, isn’t it? We play the final chords, bow and wave. Fortunately, all the concerts end the same: stage, fitting room, party, hotel, sleep. New day comes and you're on your way to a new place, a new gig. On your way to a short but very important moment of your life that worth living. 

The guys exchange words while I’m looking at the crowd in front. Heck, I’m like the Pope! The last thing I should do is to reach out a hand and say some words in Latin. On the left Richard is smoking, looking at people with posh in his eyes, turning his head to Oli and Flake from time to time, who discuss something with interest. On the right there's Till, always daydreaming, and eternally optimistic Paul, who doesn't look happy at all. He smiles with the corners of his lips, when his gaze betrays him. 

From the very beginning of the tour he’s been hiding behind a mask of a positive person. But he always seems to be pissed off and upset at the same time. He doesn't talk back or lose his temper but speaks less than usual. He’s absent often and no one knows where he is and what he is up to. Anyway, everything is alright at the gigs. So maybe that's why the guys don't pay much attention to his "sickness". Everyone has their ups and downs. Maybe he’s just tired. I’ve tried to find out what is going on with him but my sheer curiosity has crashed against the wall he’s built around his inner self. So we’ve decided to leave him alone and give him some time.

Usually he is the most active and lively among us, doing some crazy stuff. I always wonder how he’s able to keep his ground after all these dance movements and head shaking he does. “Flirting” with the fans and the guys from the band, and me obviously, has always marked him as a very charismatic person.

Tired of raising hands I hold on the metal bar, taking a glance of the people below. The crowd is still thirsty for another show. The trace of my thoughts is interrupted by a warm touch to my fingers. I look to the right to find out that Paul’s hand is partially lying on mine, while he’s grinning incisively. My muscles twitch from that touch, as it may seem by accident, but his grin... Now it looks mischievous and mysterious at the same time, so I can’t tear my eyes from his face. Paul grabs my fingers more tight, crashing my hand into the bar, and makes a step closer. My forehead covers in swear, though my body is already covered in it. Shit, Paul. Why are you doing this to me?

The final explosion blows up and the lights go down. I twitch and come into a stupor for few seconds. A hand on my shoulder brings my mind back to life. That's Richard with a cig between his lips. He takes a puff and goes out, breathing out the smoke. I turn my head to the right to find out that Paul has disappeared, like nothing ever happened a minute ago. I let go of the bar and follow Richard, a bit clumsy though. Ok, focus. Now it's high time to leave my stage image behind and go for an after-party. I need to clear my thoughts and finally relax.

 

 

I turn off the shower and coolness of the room touches my warm wet skin. Stunning. But it's still stuffy in the dressing room like on the outside. While my skin is still drying I decide to go to see Paul to make sure he's alright.

There're not many people in the hall, just some staff moving around and Richard who is talking to someone on the phone, leaning to the wall. I find the right door with Paul's name on it and come in, knocking first. He must have just gone out from the shower too. He's wearing only a towel around his waist and red concert boots, while the hair is spiking out. As I shut the door Paul turns quickly, hiding his hand behind his back. He's trying to hide his nervousness but still looks surprised and lost. 

‘Are you feeling alright?’ I ask and come closer.

‘Yeah, I think so,’ he answers unsure and a smirk appears on his face.

‘Well, if something happened...’ I get interrupted in the middle of the sentence.

‘No!’ says Landers almost shouting. He notices it and furrows. ‘I mean... I'm alright. Just... tired. Haven't got used to touring yet.’

A strange smile appears on his face as long as wrinkles around his eyes, reminding that the man isn't young anymore. Time runs fast. What a bitch.

‘Ok. Good,’ I answer and go to the door. I don't want to make him feel uncomfortable and nervous even more so I simply add. ‘If anything... You can always tell us.’

He nods and smiles, looking at me from head to toe, squinting. I nod too and leave the room, still feeling a bit odd.

 

 

The music is too loud and I can barely hear what the guys are talking about. Flake is staring at people, dancing in the centre, while sipping his glass of some weird blue cocktail. Oli and Till giggle, arguing with Kruspe, who smokes again. Paul is nowhere to be seen. I've been searching for him in the crowd but it seems that he left. He didn't even drink anything and it bothered me the most. Landers has been acting weird recently. Maybe he's really tired and should get some sleep.

After drinking enough, we go downstairs to the dance floor. And here we go. Till and Richard don't really dance. They just walk here and there, talking and smoking, mostly Richard though. Soon they go upstairs and leave the rest of us here. Oli dances with Flake, while I do my favourite octopus dance, shaking the butt. What do they say? Dance like no one sees? Well, I must say when you that drunk you can't see either. Lots of lights make up just one big spot while you can barely stand still without leaning to the sides. It's a pity my friend left. He‘d looked terrific on the floor and out-drunk everyone, offering another drink.

I still wonder how he manages to consume so much. He is like a small nuclear reactor, releasing explicit amount of energy, being little though. We will never be able to catch for him. And now I'm thinking about Paul again. Well.

It looks like I'm totally drunk. I have to leave stuffy overpopulated dance floor, making my way to the rest room, which turns out to be empty and full of smoke. God damnit, Richard. It must be him who did it. Lazy ass that can't make a step farther and go outside. He is sure hyperactive but when it comes to every day’s routine he turns into a koala - sleep more, move less. 

It's good I'm finally here. I haven't noticed I want to use a toilet so badly, so I do. I return to the sink, fixing the belt clumsy as my fingers move slower. I shouldn't have drunk so much, damn. Cold water touches my face, cooling my hot skin and making me feel far more better. Closing my eyes, I grab the side of the sink to keep balance. The light is gloomy, that I'm really glad for right now, and lounge is playing in accompanying with loud bass from the dance floor. 

Splashing my face with cold water once more, I head for the door but suddenly something heavy jumps onto my back, grabbing my neck. I can’t manage to keep ground and fall onto my side, hitting the floor with my elbow. Ouch! A wet cloth covers my nose and mouth and I can smell something sweet. 

‘What the fuck?’ I swear but only mumbling is heard. I grab the hand, that covers my face, and pull desperately while I try to get on my feet. Alcohol in my blood slows the coordination so the body moves awkward. 

As I get up on my knees, still trying to free my face, the attacker pulls back rapidly so I end up lying on my back on him. He puts his legs around my waist, cutting the way out, and squeezes his hand around my neck making it hard to breathe. From such a quick move I start to feel sick. I've lost orientation completely and later the control over the body. I can barely move and my fingers lose their grip slowly, letting the man's hands go. The last thing I remember is a round lamp in the ceiling is getting darker as my conscience does.

 

 

My forehead smashes into something metal and it brings me around. I’m seeing stars and my body gets pulled back. Shit, that hurts! I look around. Well, I would have if it wasn’t for a dusty bag on my head that made me cough. After clearing my throat, I swallow, feeling dust on my tongue. Damn, I need a drink badly.

I twitch. It turns out that my hands are tied up behind my back and I’m inside some van that is moving, turning occasionally, so my body is flying around. Somehow I manage to sit up and to lean on the wall.

Just now my mind has come to realize that… Shit! I’ve been kidnapped! My body is shivering in fear. It’s getting hot in here and it’s harder to breathe with each second. Why? What have I done? Uncertainty frightens more. I have no idea what this maniac is up to. I’m still alive so he’s not going to kill me. So far. Shit! My brain immediately starts remembering every horror movie I’ve seen. Stop!

I squeeze my fists and close my eyes to calm down. C'mon, put yourself together. Money. Yeah, that must be the reason why he kidnapped me. Why not? I'm famous around the world - I bet Richard would love that - he can get a lot of money. They are people who're going to pay me out. That's for sure. 

Well, who's going to panic first? I'm curious. I bet Paul would drag everyone to the studio after he found out such unpleasant news about me. He'd have the guys sat and start debating upon some rescue mission. That would be fun. 

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the back door being opened. My body is in the hands of fear and it starts to shiver again. My captor grabs me by hand and drags to the exit. I hardly manage to get there but I'm not able to consider the height of the van. Alcohol is still in my blood and according to the situation I've found myself in... Well, I just fall down. Much thanks to the captor who doesn't let my pretty face kiss the ground. I hiss. My knees, otherwise, hit the hard surface. How many bruises have I got yet? I'm thinking about bad again. Calm down, you idiot! But I'm not able to keep silent anymore. 

‘Listen, I'll give you money. A-as much as you want. You’re gonna pack your stuff and go to some distant island or wherever you want. You know who I am. You can get a lot.’ What the fuck am I talking about? My voice, suddenly higher than usual, trembles, showing my fear. I'm dead.

We stop to a halt. My captor tuts, breathing out loudly, and... giggle? Are you kidding me? I'm about to pass out from such a stress and you're just staying there and laughing! Ha-ha, of course. He ruffles my hair and pulls me further. Great. I hope my virgin ass is going to survive this adventure. My mind thinks about something weird again, make me squeak but my captor doesn't seem to hear it just doesn't show it. 

He sets me on a squeaky chair and ties me up across the chest and then over my shins to the chair legs. I swallow again, feeling a dusty desert in my mouth. 

‘Water,’ I ask in harsh rusty voice, coughing again. Nasty taste of sand and dust is on my tongue.

I don't have to wait for long. A dirty bag releases my sweaty head so I can finally breathe without inhaling dust with my lungs. Cold glass touches my lips and then I feel cool water that I gladly drink, swallowing it greedily. What a relief.

Having enough, I lean back. My eyes have got used to the light in the room and I dare to look up at my captor. Shit.

‘What the fuck, Paul?’ I shout at him, furrowing and squeezing fists. ‘I’ve nearly shitted my pants!’

My captor, my friend and my band mate at the same time, grins, showing his shining teeth that I'd punch with great pleasure. Hell, I'm furious. Fucking bastard!

‘Calm down,’ says Paul and takes away the glass, still smirking.

‘Calm down?! I'm fucking scared to death. I thought I might never see my family again! You're an asshole,’ I spat on him but I calm down with every minute. ‘Untie me.’

‘No,’ Paul giggles and comes closer. 

‘What do you mean?’ I can't decide whether I should be angry or surprised. 

‘No means no,’ answer Paul, squinting. He gestures with his hand and adds ‘I haven't finished yet.’

He comes closer and takes out a razor from his pocket, trying its sharpness with his thumb. I'm watching him, squeezing my jaws. His actions make me numb and my brows just go up. I stare at a shining razor and then at his face. Only now I notice that he's wearing his grey concert suit.

‘I need to ask you about something. Don't move. I might cut you.’ says Landers and looks at me with worry written on his face.

I open my mouth to answer him but nothing comes as he mounts my thighs and his stomach almost touches my chest. He lays his hand on my shoulder and his thumb touches my neck, softly stroking the skin. It's getting too hot at once and I turn my head away, blushing.

‘Wha...’ I can't control my tongue. It's numb. God, I act like a girl on a first date. Paul got me. He moves making me go back to the reality. I twitch and shiver a bit.

‘Easy,’ he takes my chin, with care, and pulls up, making me look at him. ‘Don't move.’

Paul puts his finger on my forehead and adds some pressure so my head tilts. Eyes closed, I don't know what to expect. My body is still in shock and I'm not sure whether it's because of fear of the unknown or because of Paul's warm body so close to mine. Something cold and wet touches the skin under my nose and I open my eyes to find out but Paul’s palm on my forehead doesn't let me move my head.

‘Stop twitching,’ he says in harsh voice and his hand is near my face.

A cold razor touches the skin above my lips carefully and goes down slowly. Paul repeats again and again and rubs the skin with his sleeve at the end. I realize that I haven't breathed, scared of making any movement. Hardly I ever inhale I feel Paul's warm lips kissing mine, slowly and carefully. 

‘That's better,’ he says, smiling warmly, and strokes the skin under my nose softly.

No shit!


End file.
